


Say it isn’t so, Dipper!

by yoursatanboyfriend



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Date Rape, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Human Trafficking, M/M, The Ninth Paradigm AU, attempted human trafficking really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7889932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursatanboyfriend/pseuds/yoursatanboyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You like the bad boys?" Dipper shakes his head, says he doesn’t like men at all, and Bill laughs.</p><p>Dipper cries the entire time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say it isn’t so, Dipper!

**Author's Note:**

> Set within the same AU as another fic of mine.(The Ninth Paradigm) Decided not to throw in the side-plot of past Billdip, so here it is, condensed and solo. Feedback is appreciated! Including roasting me for writing something this problematic hahaha.ha

Dipper is at a club, not his idea, mind you. A blind date with a party girl-- clearly his friends didn’t know his type. He assumes they think he needs a wild girl to bring him out of his shell.

Not to seem rude, he says yes. (What’s the worst that could happen?)

The night is awful so far; the music too loud, the people too close and his date is gone more often than not. The next time she’s here, they’re both at the bar, and a loud voice breaks their flimsy attempt at alone time:

“Hey man, your girl is gorgeous!”

It’s a boy, around Dipper’s age. Over-dressed for a club and looking more formal. He’s clean-cut and well-kept, sticks out like a sore thumb.

Dipper thanks him awkwardly. Notices the boy grab a drink from the bar with gloved hands- who wore gloves to a club?

* * *

He needs to use the rest room. There’s no line, luckily. Once he’s finished, he washes his hand at the basin, and the boy from before is there.

“Hey, you having fun, kid?”

“Kinda.”

He turns to leave but the boy blocks his path, and Dipper notices he isn’t wearing his gloves now. No gloves and his hands are tattooed. The boy advances on Dipper, with malice in each step, until Dipper’s back is against the wall.

“When I said your girl was cute…I think I was wrong. You’re the real looker here, aren’t you?”

Dipper is shocked, a little scared and unable to reply. He can tell the boy is trouble.

“So, do you like the bad boys, kid?”        

“I-I don’t like men…”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The boy pushes him against the wall, and crudely grabs him below the belt. Dipper has never been more terrified, utter nonsense spilling from his mouth, but the boy just shushes him, hands nearly in—no, now they’re already in his pants. They feel carefully, as if inspecting the area, prodding at his—it’s uncomfortable, close to being painful.

Suddenly, the boy stops. He steps back, finger-gunning Dipper playfully then _licking the fingers that have just been in Dipper’s pants_. He turns and leaves, and Dipper has to rinse his mouth out because bile has already risen into it.

He needs to leave. Now.

When he returns to the bar, his date is there and she hands him a drink. He downs it quickly, washing away the taste of vomit, and she grins, “Starting to feel it, huh? Hey, you should thank that guy by the way. He totally bought us these rounds!” She points to the boy from the bathroom, the one with the tattoos, and Dipper’s breath hitches. The boy waves at him with a wink and a smirk that makes Dipper sick—or is the drink making him sick…?

It’s so salty. So…salty?

It takes Dipper ten minutes before the drug hits him fully, and it takes the boy only three minutes to separate Dipper from his date.

* * *

His vision is blurry, and he’s being taken somewhere. He can hear noises, smell smoke? An engine is running, so he’s in a car? Nothing makes sense. Cars aren’t allowed in clubs.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the boy, with the tattooed fingers, laughing and talking to a man he doesn’t recognize. He notices Dipper’s awake and says “Hey sleeping beauty! And he is beautiful, isn’t he? Look at his face—just barely out of high school, yeah? Nice skin, nice eyes—look pal, he’s the cutest one I’ve seen in awhile! How much you willing to pay? I might part with him for…say 500?”

The voices overlap and his eyesight becomes hazy again. He thinks he might’ve been in a car but—didn’t he already know that? Yes, it’s a car…they’re in a car…

Everything is black now.

He comes to again, hears more words: “Yeah man. I said 500 but the fuck was cheap. Like maaaan, you can’t expect me to hand over a decent-looking young virgin for less than 500, yeah? I’m sick of these old ass cheap-skates. Go home and fuck your wife if you ain’t willing to pay.”

Dipper blacks out again.

He’s awake now. Staggering off the bed, sticky, disorientated—there are two men watching television: the boy and someone else.

There are moving images on the television, of Dipper and the boy. Dipper first thinks it’s porn before recognizing the faces.

“My buddy here likes the video we filmed last night.” The boy grins, then turns to his friend and winks. “I told you it’s always the quiet ones, right?” They laugh.

Dipper is mortified, and runs to the bathroom. (he somehow knows where it is?) His stomach purges itself while the laughter continues in the back.

Dipper walks—limps, he’s limping now—back to the main room and the boy speaks to him, “Hey, my buddy says he’s interested. He’s willing to pay. You in?”

Dipper looks at the boy like he’s crazy.

The boy points at his friend. “I’m gonna charge you extra if I have to hold him down.”

* * *

He’s sober this time, when the boy fucks him. He feels everything, and can’t stop crying.

The boy doesn’t seem to care in the slightest, licking at Dipper’s cheeks and ears, so generous with his tongue that Dipper is sick sick _sick_ to his stomach.

He tells Dipper he loves virgins. He tells Dipper he’s the prettiest one he’s seen in this city so far. He tells Dipper if only Dipper behaved, they could’ve been _so much more_. He tells Dipper something in another language—Italian?

The boy takes forever to climax and Dipper realizes it’s not the first time he’s gone today. With Dipper.

* * *

The boy kisses him and it’s a hard, unforgiving kiss.  He pulls back, hand on Dipper’s throat in a cold grip.

“You don’t like the bad boys, but they sure like you, don’t they? They _sure like you_.”

* * *

The next time he sees those tattoos, it’s on the hands of a different boy, a boy named Bill, at his Uncle’s side.

But the voice is the same.

the voice is the same…the voice is the same…


End file.
